First Impressions
by DancingRaindrops
Summary: -You know that saying about first impressions and second chances? Like, "You never get a second chance to make a first impression"?- Chad's thoughts during his pre-date preparations. Takes place within Falling for the Falls Part 2.


A/N: Hello, everyone! Here is my one-shot about _Falling for the Falls: Part 2_**. **I know pretty much everyone in the SWAC community is doing one, but I had to offer up my take. :P This is a piece on Chad's thoughts pre-date; you know, when he's trying to get ready and failing? XD Dedicated to all of my buddies on forum, with special shoutouts to **ZahZah-Chan, Willow. Heidi Erickson, TeddyLuver, Everafterjunkie, **and **McLovingIt**. You guys are the best! Enjoy!

**First Impressions**

_I'm feeling nervous_

_Trying to be so perfect_

'_Cause I know you're worth it_

_You're worth it_

_Yeah_

_-Avril Lavigne_

You know that saying about first impressions and second chances? Like, "_You never get a second chance to make a first impression_"? Well, let me tell you something - I _live_ by that quote.

Everyone knows it's always the first date that's the most important.

Maybe you'll hit it off, and the night will end with starry eyes and a sweet goodnight kiss and anticipation of the second date.

Or maybe you won't, and the night will stretch on and on with awkward silences as you try to leave politely while conveying the message that you're simply not interested in pursuing a further relationship.

But either way, the first date is all about first impressions.

Now, I know what you're thinking; you technically should have already met your date, unless it's a blind one (in which case, good luck. You're going to need it), so it isn't really a _first_ impression.

Well, I say you're wrong. And trust me, Chad Dylan Cooper is _never_ wrong. Therefore, I must always be right. It's, like, a law. Or something equally as important as that.

And, that being said, a first impression on a date is entirely different from just your average first impression. It's the first time you're seeing this person, and only that person. You're not wearing some casual clothes you threw on to go to the supermarket in, where you happened to meet this person; you're wearing clothes you carefully selected for this person, and this person only.

Added to that, of course, is the burden of being the guy in the relationship, who then has to plan out where to go, how to get there, etc. Not that I'm being sexist; in fact, a lot of the time, I'd rather us guys _didn't_ have to go to all that trouble.

But the fact of the matter is that it's usually the guys who have to plan that stuff out, and that gives another first impression, depending on what exactly you plan.

Now don't forget, I'm Chad Dylan Cooper. And that means that normally, my first impression on a first date is pretty amazing. My date always already knows me; my fame, my talent, my dashing good looks. It tends to work in my favor.

The usual first date is a dinner. It's less about me trying to make a good first impression, and more about the girl making a good first impression on _me_. It's usually perfectly obvious after the first fifteen minutes whether or not this girl is worthy of a second date.

If she does something wrong - _any_thing wrong - in the first fifteen minutes (or during the rest of the course of the date, if she manages to scrape through those crucial minutes), she's gone. I'm not really a fan of second chances.

And when you think about it, it makes sense. Why would I bother going on a second date with someone who made a lousy first impression when I'm Chad Dylan Cooper, a Hollywood star who can get another girl, another date, another first impression, in the blink of an eye?

Easy answer: I wouldn't.

But this particular first date, the one that I'm stressing over more than I was over my hair when I met Buddy and his melon, is different.

Because the girl is Sonny.

Sonny Munroe. Yeah, the one from _So Random!. _The bubbly one, the cheerful one, the exploding ball of sunshine, we've all heard the lame nicknames. More importantly than any of that, she's my date tonight.

It's our first date. And for some inexplicable reason, I've been jittery about it all day.

It's Sonny's fault, I'm sure it is. I mean, I haven't been nervous about a first date since - well, since - you know, I actually don't know when I was nervous about a first date. But it's been awhile, I can tell you that much, and that's what makes this so ridiculous.

For the first time in forever, I'm freaking out about my first date first impression. And yes, I'm aware that what I just said doesn't really make sense grammatically. What can I say? I'm freaking out.

It starts calmly. A simple pep talk to myself. A preparation, if you will, of what's to come. Of the fact that our relationship will be changed forever if this first date works out (which I'm hoping to God it will). Calm. Cool. Collected. CDC is CCC.

For the time being.

"Hello, boys." I keep my voice level as I anxiously scan the racks of clothing for the perfect first date first impression outfit. "It's show time." And the hunt begins.

First date. Dinner, of course. I've planned it all out; the limo, the location, the chef...it's all perfect. Just like this first date is going to be. Just like it _has _to be.

One of my usual first date shirts, a green plaid one somewhat similar to the one I wore when I crashed Sonny's date with James (good times...) catches my eye on a rack, and I pull it off to re-examine it. The soft pink, collared shirt next to it that I bought last weekend (or, that my wardrobe agent bought for me) gets pushed aside, and I grab that one too for comparison.

"We've had some good times," I reminisce with the plaid, remembering the last time I wore it. That girl was pretty second-date worthy. But it somehow doesn't seem right to wear a shirt that I've worn on multiple first dates to my first date with _Sonny_. I turn to the other shirt.

"But you're new. You've got something to prove." I tilt my head to the side ever so slightly, considering it. Hm. It will depend on the look I'm going for. Better keep this one near me, just in case.

I check the clock to double check on time; after all, I wouldn't want to be late. It's 6:00, two hours left until I'm supposed to meet Sonny. And I have to put together the perfect first date first impression look within that time.

It has to be absolutely perfect. There are no second chances, after all.

So I decide to try a different approach. I'm putting together the perfect look, so each element has to be perfect, obviously. A perfect look is built on layers, each element adding another layer to it. And the best layer to start with? The first one, of course. Starting at the bottom. Shoes.

I open up my shoe closet (yes, I have a separate shoe closet. Be jealous) and pull out a few shoes of extremely varying styles, materials, and colors. There _has_ to be the perfect shoe here. Or, rather, the perfect _pair _of shoes. Whatever. I'm not one of those idiots who wears two mismatched shoes or throws up on their date. I don't have to worry about things like that, at least.

Shoe #1 is a slightly worn, somewhat dirty, blue Converse. I hold it up to my face in front of my smaller mirror (because the key to perfect shoes is how they complement your eyes, as everyone knows), and shake my head.

"Nah." It's blue, which always works for me and my sparkling eyes, but it's too dirty and casual to make a good first date first impression.

Shoe #2 is black patent leather, shined to gleaming perfection. It's really more suitable for meeting the president than a first date.

"Nah." After all, I'm not trying to make it seem like I'm _too_ interested. I am, after all, still Chad Dylan Cooper.

Shoe #3 is some kind of black and gray sneaker that's far wider than it needs to be. It's thick, clunky, and completely not me. It also happens to be as unflattering as anything _can_ be on me (which, albeit, isn't much). I own this? Since when? And _why_?

"Nah." What am I, a gangster?

I reach by feet for the next shoe, and there's nothing. Sigh. All three of the first contestants fail. Why is this so hard? Most guys would just throw on some jeans, a T-shirt, and sneakers.

Oh, right. I'm not most guys. I'm Chad Dylan Cooper.

"This would be so much easier if I was an _average_ dude," I muse to myself, rolling my eyes. Sometimes killer looks and a Hollywood background can be a curse, I suppose. Figures that only Sonny - or at least, the prospect of a date with her - could make me think that.

The whole "layers" thing for the perfect look is a bust. I'll have to start back from square one. To the clothes racks it is.

Way too much time has passed since I first walked into my dressing room; I'm normally completely dressed and ready for first dates within this interval of time. Is this what my usual first dates go through to make a good first impression? I pity them. This is just miserable.

I yank a bunch of clothes, some of which look vaguely familiar and some I've never seen before, off of their hangers and dump them in a pile off to the side of my full-length mirror to be tried on.

The first "perfect look" isn't quite what I'm looking for. It's more Falls style than anything else, and I certainly don't want to make her feel like she's just a Random tonight. Not a good first impression, you understand.

"Too preppy." The red and navy ensemble, complete with a cardigan loosely tied around my shoulders, is cast aside.

I pull out an outfit from the pile that looks like it would go perfectly with those glossy black shoes from before. It's a tuxedo, and I'm not totally sure of how it got into here in the first place. What I do know is that I look like some version of James Bond, that creep who changes faces and always wears tuxedos, usually with guns in the pockets. I've never thought he was as cool as everyone seems to think; he just goes over the top to garner more attention.

"Trying too hard." Goodbye, James Bond. And by the way, your "Bond. James Bond," is _so_ much lamer than "Chad Dylan Cooper." It's true.

In my desperate attempt to find the perfect look, I go for the completely opposite approach from James Bond. I soon find myself in front of the mirror in baggy clothes similar to what a homeless person would be wearing.

"Not trying hard _enough_." Ugh, don't I have anything that's middle ground? Am I really that extreme? Why am I asking so many questions?

Stupid Sonny, it's all her fault. I grab a hat from the pile, one that looks similar to one of Nico's, and pull on an outfit that seems to correspond. Does she like this kind of look? I consider it for a moment before shaking my head.

"Too Nico." If she had expressed an interest in Nico's clothes, it certainly hadn't translated into an interest in his personality or himself. Not that I could blame her. But that's not quite the look I want to go for.

Another plaid shirt, a red one this time, catches my eye, and I automatically pair it with some khaki shorts and a yellow shirt underneath. I don't even know why. It certainly isn't appealing in the least. In fact, it kinda reminds me of…

"Too Grady." I heard they went out on a date a couple weeks ago (I was shocked, but didn't think too much of it, especially since the next time I saw her, Sonny was begging to go out with me; or at least, I thought she was), but it clearly didn't end well. I'm hoping ours will have a better end.

Time to go back to the pile. Something that will make Sonny say "Wow." Hmmm…wow. That's a bright pink. I wonder if Sonny will have the same reaction? I slip the shockingly pink garment on (it ends up being sweats and jacket combo) and look in the mirror. Whoa.

"Too Tawni." Smoothing down the front of it, which is velvety smooth, I feel obligated to add "But very comfortable." Who knew that clothes like hers were actually this comfortable? Unfortunately, I'll have to wear it some other time; I don't think Sonny will be pleased if her date shows up in an outfit similar to her best friend's. Honestly, I would be a little weirded out if it was the other way around.

I check the time once more, and more than an hour has already passed since last I looked. This is ridiculous! Surely first date first impression looks don't take this long to put together! How do I own this many clothes? And how are _none_ of them right? _Why can't I find the perfect outfit?_

Frustrated, I grab an entire rack of clothes and start anxiously trying them all on. None of them are even _close_ to being perfect. I just hope that Sonny isn't as much of a stickler about first impressions and second chances as I am. Otherwise, I'm absolutely doomed.

**One hour of clothing changes and barely suppressed tantrums later…**

I'm standing in the middle of my dressing room, completely lost and infuriated at the same time. My phone rings just as I'm on the brink of explosion, and I quickly check the caller ID. It's Sonny, of course; after all, I'm late picking her up. And I'm still in my boxers and a gray T-shirt. Perfect date attire. For fear of being thoroughly chastised, I don't pick up.

"Hey, Chad, it's me. Please call me back, I've been ready for half an hour now…listen, I can't wait to see you. It's – it's going to be perfect." Sonny's voice permeates the room, her sweet smile and anticipation almost in front of me as I listen to her. It's enough to make me grin; or at least, it would be if I was currently dressed.

I throw the mismatched clothes that I'm holding in my hand to the floor, beyond aggravated. I haven't been this aggravated since I read in _Tween Weekly_ that Zac Efron was the most popular teen star in Hollywood a few years ago. _Nothing_ is working for me right now. It's just all wrong!

"It's wrong, wrong, it's – it's all wrong!" I voice aloud, kicking the various garments strewn across the floor. I can't believe this is happening. My first date first impression is already a bad one; I'm more than half an hour late. I'll have to look even _more_ perfect than I was planning to. Sighing, I turn back to my racks of clothing. I can't give up, after all…perhaps there's still time to salvage my first impression, if I look _really_ good. And throw in a few extra compliments.

**Ten more failed outfits and one perfect one later…**

"Sorry I'm late, I was – " I begin contritely after waking Sonny up (am I really that late?), " – wow." Sonny looks gorgeous. Beyond gorgeous. "I thought I looked good." Sonny beams at me, grinning brightly and also somewhat nervously, I'm pleased to note. Thank God I'm not the only one.

"Really?" A matching smile spreads across my face as I look at her some more, unable to help myself. Remind me why I didn't ask this girl out sooner? "I just…threw this on," Sonny adds for good measure.

"Yeah…me too," I lie hastily, tugging at my jacket. Does she like it? Do I look okay? What if it's not perfect? What if I failed her fifteen minutes test already? What am I saying, of course I failed it! I wasn't even _here_ for the first fifteen minutes! Oh, shut up, Chad, you're Chad Dylan Cooper! Sonny smiles again, and I let out a small sigh of relief. "So…"

"So…" she repeats, and I bite my lip anxiously.

"Well?" I offer up a charming smile.

"Well…" Sonny looks at me expectantly, lifting her eyebrows. Come on, Chad, man up! I hold out my arm to her like a true gentleman.

"Shall we?" She glances at my arm held aloft for a second before meeting my eyes with her beautiful smile.

"We shall." Sonny takes my arm, and we leave her dressing room. I don't seem to have failed yet. Perhaps my first date first impression won't be so bad after all.

…or at least, that's what I think until I fall off my chair.

There goes my perfect first impression. Crap.

A/N: And…cut! I'm leaving it right there. ;) So, guys, I need your help. I'm deciding whether or not I want to make **Falling for Sonny**, my original one-shot on part 1 of _Falling for the Falls_, a two-shot with part 2 in it. What do you think? I would also love it if you voted in my new poll. :D I really want to hear your guys' opinions! Thanks, everyone. Please review!


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